Categories
by ilovemoony73
Summary: Mix-matched Remus and Tonks one-shots. For Taragh McCarthy's Talk about Categories challenge!
1. Up In Flames

As a Hogwarts student Remus had always loved Hogsmeade visits. It seemed utterly ridiculous that his palms were growing sweaty at the lingering thought of the pending weekend, because nothing much had changed in the dozen or so years since then except the existence in his life of the girl he knew he'd see tomorrow.

It frustrated Remus beyond rational expression that Nymphadora made him so flustered now. He had consistently told himself that his relationship with her was strictly platonic, regardless of what the squinty giggle she only did when he made her laugh and her occasional (or perhaps a little more often) casual brush against him said. He had been firm in his resolve, and it was extraordinarily inconvenient that his conscience decided that he didn't _want_ platonic with Nymphadora until after he had expressed otherwise to her. He thought platonic would keep her future and his peace of mind safe. So obviously, it had gone horribly awry.

And now he sat with the side of his face flush against the table in exasperation while his palms perspired. Why was Albus Dumbledore such an intelligent, cruel, clever bastard? Albus knew that Remus's resolve was crumbling; he knew that he was going crazy constantly thinking about Nymphadora. So _why _in the _world_ did Albus decide it should be Remus to go to Hogsmeade and play delegate between the Aurors in the village and the Order? The old man shouldn't be sending Remus to spend the weekend with the twenty-something year old girl he was losing his grip over.

If they made it through this war, Remus thought he just may have to hex the old man for his appreciation—and manipulation—of love.

-rlnt-

Nymphadora's face when she opened the flat door was quite priceless. Albus told her she would have a visitor from the Order over the weekend. He hadn't mentioned it would be Mr. Lupin.

She gawked at him for a moment then swiftly regained her composure. "Can I help you?" she asked indifferently.

"No, but you can invite me in to discuss Order business," Remus said loudly, purposefully, and Nymphadora pulled him by the wrist into the flat before anyone could hear and comprehend what he was shouting. She slammed the door.

"Don't be a bloody _moron_," she scolded. "Are you trying to get me killed? Are you trying to get _yourself_ killed?" He grinned. It pissed her off. "What do you want, anyway?"

"Like I said, I'm here on Order business, Nymphadora. I was told you knew I would be here today."

"Oh, no-no-no I wasn't," she said, wide-eyed and cross-armed. "I was told someone would be coming by, yes, but I thought it would be one of my more _civilized _colleagues," she shot.

Remus frowned quickly. He understood that she was referring to his behavior toward her as of late, but by nature he took it as a prejudiced statement.

Nymphadora covered her tracks quickly. "I mean someone who I can be in the same room as for an hour without arguing." She saw the wrinkle that formed between his eyebrows when he frowned smooth and sighed in silent relief. She had right to hate him, but she couldn't stand to see him upset.

"Yes, well, you'll have to make do with me," he said with a slight smirk that she wanted to slap off his face. "Why don't we go out of town a little to talk?"

She huffed. "Alright, then."

She put on her winter cloak and was following Remus out the door when a large piece of compacted snow fell off of the roof and onto his head. She chortled.

-rlnt-

"Dumbledore still hasn't indicated that there is anything in particular that I'm supposed to be watching out for. It's getting boring out here, honestly," Nymphadora said as they walked past the edge of the village and the thin crowd of Hogwarts students.

"Imagine what it's been like at Grimmauld," Remus said solemnly.

"I didn't know we were still using Grimmauld as headquarters," Nymphadora frowned. "It's still ours, then? Kreacher can't sell us out?"

"No. Kreacher is loyal to Harry now, albeit begrudgingly . . . Dora, hasn't anyone written, at least?"

She sighed. "Of course. I talk to Molly a few times a week, sometimes I see her, but no one ever wants to talk about the Order. It's hard enough to be surrounded by the war . . . I think they prefer to escape the world for a little while," Nymphadora pulled a strand of plain hair behind her ear, "and remind me of my problems," she muttered.

Remus almost asked her to repeat what she said last, but it sunk in quickly and he drew the question back from the tip of his tongue. Of course he knew that _he_ was probably at the root of most of those problems. But while they walked farther from the edge of town in silence, close enough to each other to feel the heat come off her body, he felt his heart lurch towards Dora, as it had before, toward all of the possibilities she had been so confident in. Such hope of happiness was nearly squashed when a voice in his head whispered _too late._

"I should take back what I said," Nymphadora said as they strolled to the edge of the valley the Shrieking Shack sat in. She leaned against the wood fence. "I shouldn't blame Molly, or anyone else. It's no ones fault but my own. I suppose I should apologize to you, too—"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Remus intercepted her quickly.

"Yes, that's what I thought. But it was worth a shot," she gave a weak smile and then trained her eyes on the footprints in the snow.

"Nymphadora," he said, tilting her chin up to look at him. "When this is over, when all of this is done with, you can have anything in the world," he said softly. "Dora, you could be a princess, if you wanted."

"You could be my king," she whispered.

He pretended not to hear. "You could live in a castle," he pushed on.

"—worn a ring," she continued her quiet, half-hearted argument. "Remus, you still don't get it."

He looked at her with weariness in his eyes; she knew he hated this conversation. But she hated how it kept turning out, so until he owned up to loving her like any man who wasn't ridiculously noble would, they would both suffer.

She spoke before he could. "Hear me out this time, alright? Don't interrupt me with that same song and dance, 'cause I won't hear it. Right now, at this moment, we are in the middle of a war. And yes, I know, it's absolutely insane when teenaged couples run off and get married because they're afraid for their lives, but I'm not a teenage girl asking you to abandon everything with me. I'm just asking you to let yourself do what you want, no matter what your sensible conscience might tell you, while you can. We don't know if there's a next week, or a tomorrow, we don't know if we have _tonight_. Do you really want to waste time—precious, irreplaceable time fighting me?" As she spoke her voice fell in volume and rose in pitch. Remus saw the tears sparkle in her eyes.

He rested one hand on her hip and caressed her face with the other. He hated himself for it—what if he woke up in the morning and his _sensible_ _conscience_ was back, telling him again to leave? But she was right. What if he _didn't_ wake up one day, whether it be weeks or months. Was doing his idea of the right thing more important than her happiness? His happiness? He supposed not, with such limited time.

He leaned his head down to kiss her. Nymphadora felt sparks ignite when they connected, and she smiled into his lips. She knew the feeling well—the feeling was _pink_. Pink hair, pink lips, pink cheeks; the color was returning to her. She felt and radiated bliss, and though she knew that Remus giving in to her may be temporary, she was too caught up in heaven to think as far ahead as tomorrow.

-rlnt-

**Event: Hogsmeade weekend**

**Place: Shrieking Shack**

**Prompts: Heaven, Piece, Almost**

**Quote: I could've been a princess, you'd be the king. Could've had a castle, worn a ring.**


	2. Story of Us

Event: Snow Day

Place: the Great Hall

Prompt: Smooth, moon, waltz

Quote: "Well, my heart knows me better than I know myself, so I'm gonna let it do all the talking."

Shameless self-plugging: I'm not sure that this one will make much sense unless you've read my first RLNT multi-chap, because this refers to what happened there. Oh, and here, Tonks is a fourth year and Remus is a seventh, just like that one. So seriously, go read that, it's quick, then come back over here and read this bit of fluff. Please and thank you :3

-rlnt-

A petite pink-haired girl sat alone in the Great hall, her elbows resting on the steps to the high table behind her; her head lay back limp on her shoulders, and she gazed at the enchanted ceiling.

She heard footsteps, but she did not look up; she merely spoke in a quiet but somehow intense tone that she supposed she had picked up somewhere along the line from her intruder. "You can't see it, cause of all the cloud cover, and the snow's falling too hard, but it's a new moon tonight."

He sat next to her, seeming as if he hadn't heard her speak while she paid no mind to the familiar warmth of his proximity.

She continued. "I suppose you already know that, though. You must." She sighed. "New is my favorite. Years ago, when I was smaller—" he snorted at the thought of her being any smaller than she appeared as she sat back next to him in the huge, empty hall—"When I was _younger_," she reiterated, shooting him a glance, "I liked the full moon. Thought it was pretty. 'Course, now I hate it; not as much as you do though, I guess. New is my favorite," she repeated.

She didn't look like she was going to continue. He took a stab at prompting her. "And why is that?" he asked.

"It's right in the middle," she said, eyes still on the ceiling. "It's far enough from the last full moon and just as far from the next. You're feeling better, and I'm not that worried. Yet." She was speaking to him from her heart, letting it talk for her. While it was by no means uncommon for her to say what she meant without second thought, the trance that kept her eyes trained on the sky unsettled him. Her voice continued softly, powerfully.

"I like the snow, too. It hides things," she said, heaving another sigh, thinking about the smooth rock she had thrown at a retreating form weeks ago and she now saw as clear as day every time she went outside, a clear reminder that the events of Christmas holiday had not been a bad dream, but had, in fact, _really_ happened.

She finally looked away from the ceiling and toward her sweet, solemn, slightly worn-seeming boyfriend.

But he was on his feet before her, looking farther from _worn_ that ever. Less solemn than she could have thought possible. He knew what was on her mind. He blamed himself, and though he knew she would never agree, he found it his job to make her feel better.

Because . . . well, he thought, that's what boyfriends do for their girlfriends.

He held out both of his hands and he saw the daze break when she cracked a smile. "What are you doing?" she asked, taking his hands with the blind trust she had always had around him.

"You remember, a few weeks ago, the day before Christmas when it was raining, and we were out in front of the Black lake?" he asked, settling his hands on her waist.

"Of course, she said, nodding fervently.

"And do you remember this?" he asked, smiling, while he placed her hand on his shoulder, held his own at her waist, and grasped her other hand tight.

She grinned, a marvelous, cheeky grin that he loved.

"'Course I do," she said, and began to step in time to silent music; "I remember this, too."

She loved how bright his eyes looked, like the stars that were blinking just above the clouds. She was amazed that, as they danced the waltz he had taught her in the rain, things felt almost exactly as they had then. The same butterflies; she was sure she was blushing as much as she had then, swooning over him, head-over-heals . . . but he was still holding onto her, so she remained right-side up. The only that that had changed was that she felt much more sure than she would have then as she paused after being twirled, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him.

And, there was always the fact that he continued to smile as he kissed her in return.

They parted and as they stood, hands on each other's hips or shoulders, he saw that the haze that had clouded her eyes when he found her had cleared, and her eyes twinkled.

"Now, tell me if I'm being ridiculous here," he started, and she cocked her head to the side in question. "I think . . . I think I love you, Nymph."

Her face straightened and he eyes went wide. For a moment he was afraid he should _not_ have said that, until a mischievous smile broke across her face.

"That's good," she said "because I _know_ I love you, Remus."

He held her close to him, and they kissed again under the ceiling of snow.

-rlnt-

CHEESY FLUFF. Let me know what you think:)


	3. Prove You Wrong

**Merlin's saggy left testicle, I cannot explain in a brief author's note what has happened in the last two months. I began writing this right before everything started but I haven't sat down to write since then. All I have to say is I'm happier than I've ever been and it's cause of a boy. A senior boy. Who's gorgeous. And writes. And is pretty much perfect. Hey, I guess karma's finally paying me back for all the trouble.**

**~rlnt~**

As the viewing services drew to a close, Remus reset his posture from the slouched-over lump of pathetic that he had been throughout the little mass to the straight-backed well-mannered man he had been raised as. The tears continued to flow from his eyes and down his face in a heavy stream, but he didn't want to look like he had fallen completely apart as others began to leave his wife's funeral.

After most of the mourners had started to filter out of the room (probably only to attend another funeral—the number of casualties from the Battle of Hogwarts seemed earth-shattering to some), Remus lifted his son from Andromeda's arms. Neither said a word, but as she gave him a small, sad smile, he understood that she needed a moment alone as well as she understood he needed a moment with Teddy.

Remus walked up to the casket, wearing an expression of such pure bereavement that, had anyone happened to look in his direction, they could practically _feel_ his pain. His eyes fell first on the cottony pink of her hair, and as he took her peaceful face in yet again, he still couldn't believe that she was dead. Hell, she didn't _look_ dead. She looked like she was sleeping.

The thought of Dora sleeping brought the memory of the day before back with renewed vividness and a fresh wave of tears. Remus clutched his baby closer to him as he wept.

~rlnt~

He could make it. He _knew_ he could make it . . . he _had _to make it.

Why was Aberforth so careless? Balmy old man, just like his brother, putting whatever was in better interest for all over the wellbeing of the few. Didn't he understand that the woman hadn't given birth a month ago? She could hardly have passed for sane, Remus knew; if she was anywhere in her right mind she would never have left Teddy at risk of losing both of his parents at once.

He ran through the dusty corridors and the dueling wizards began to grow sparse. The flashes that he saw as he came closer to his wife a yard, a foot, an inch at a time became few and far between. He was reaching parts of the castle so deep that the fighting hadn't completely penetrated the peace . . . not yet.

Remus felt warmth spread from his head to his heart. Nymphadora had gone so far from the masses of Death Eaters, perhaps because she had come to her senses, realized battle was no place, for a woman with a baby that needed her, to be? He began to hope that she was retreating to safety and would reach a sanctuary before the distress pierced the air here, too. He thought that with some good luck it was definitely a possibility (and, he thought gravely, there had been enough _bad_ luck in their relationship already, maybe it was due time for some good luck to help get them back home to the product of one of their other few bouts of good luck).

As his pace slowed and he grew more confident that his love would be fine when he found her, he heard movement in the corridors around him. First he heard soft whispers—indistinguishable, but definitely words from one person to another. The next sound confused him and made his insides twist unpleasantly, as it wasn't one he heard often, especially with Dora. It was the click of high heeled shoes, simultaneously muted by the dust that they must have been walking on and magnified by the natural echo of the corridor they traveled through.

Remus drew his wand and slowly, carefully approached the perpendicular hall. The voices became clearer and he understood them as threats without a moment of extra thought.

"And, dearie, do you know what I will do to your son then? Would you like to hear what I'm going to do?" Very suddenly Remus realized why his stomach had tightened into knots when he heard those shoes. Bellatrix was feet away from him, but he had no clue where Dora was in relation to her.

"I'm going to kill him," she said, softer than he had ever heard.

As Bellatrix spoke, Remus's heart clenched painfully in horror, for the wellbeing of his son and of his wife, who was obviously in more immediate danger. At the time that such a train of thought began running through his head and over a span of approximately three seconds, he died.

~rlnt~

But of course, he was still alive. Why was _he_ alive? It should have been Nymphadora that lived, not him. Whoever the higher power of the universe was, Remus had thought over and over again afterward, he or she (or it) had quite some audacity to choose to let a monster live and allow an innocent woman get killed. And a sick sense of humor to go with it.

~rlnt~

Remus saw the blue flash in one second. Nymphadora screamed in agony the next. And in the third second, Bellatrix was already running, the click of her shoes and her cackle following behind her in a haunted echo. It was the same blood-curdling cackle she had emitted when she had sent Sirius through the Veil.

Remus had launched himself around the corner and sent his body flying in the direction of Dora's crumpled one as he extended his wand arm at the sick bitch that was retreating from her niece. His _wife._ It had taken so much to achieve happiness, why was this happening?

"_Avada Kadavra!"_ Remus shouted without second thought, with all of the anger and hate he could muster. Bellatrix stopped short, looked over her shoulder, when she heard him. She had no time to react, and the terrified look in her eyes before she was hit squarely in the back of the heart gave Remus tremendous pleasure.

As she collapsed, he turned his attention to Dora. Her eyes were open, and moving, which was reassuring, if only slightly. "Remus?" she muttered, looking toward him but clearly not seeing very well. "Remus I'm so sorry," she said, beginning to sob. She raised her hands to her face and he noticed for the first time the coat of blood that extended to her elbows. She swiped at her tears, staining her beautiful, unnaturally pale face with her own precious blood.

He grabbed her hands away and wiped her tears with his own hands, dusty and dirty but not covered in blood. He quickly fashioned a device of his belt and over shirt to keep pressure on the wound on her abdomen as he picked her up and walked her down one more hall.

As Dora whimpered her apologies, Remus brought her into the Room of Requirement and laid her on a large, comfortable bed. "I just couldn't stand waiting like that, I couldn't do it," she was saying. "I needed to come and help, I needed to see you, I couldn't just wait sweetheart." Her eyes were losing the vague focus they had.

"It's going to be okay Dora," he whispered, not believing himself as he smoothed her hair and kissed her head. "I promise it will all be fine."

"Remus," she said, urgency rising in her weak voice, "Remus, please . . . just, just kiss it better. I'm not ready to go, kiss it better, make it better, please," she was pleading. Her voice trembled. Her beautiful eyes looked at him blindly, spilling tears as quickly as his. "I'm sorry, make it better, please, I'm so sorry," she wept.

"Shh . . . it's not your fault love. You didn't know, you didn't know this was going to happened. I didn't know." Remus's tone became more serious, closer to anger, "I didn't want you to be hurt. This wasn't supposed to happen. No, _I'm_ sorry Nymphadora. I'm so sorry. Dora, I love you. Do you hear me? Do you know that? I love you. So much." He punctuated his words with kisses to her head.

"I love you too . . . I love you sweetheart, I love you so much. I love you." She was silent for a moment. "Remus?" he answered her with a kiss. "Stay with me, until I fall asleep, please. Stay with me."

Regardless of how suddenly she had been hit, Nymphadora recognized the curse that had been sent at her as well as Remus did, and she found no pride in pretending to believe that it could be reversed. Remus realized that she was scared, she was terrified—shit, she was barely 25—but she was trying to be brave. So, he decided, he would be brave for her.

He pulled her close into him and settled her comfortably in his arms. As he murmured to her, stroked her hair, kissed her face, her responses became weaker and weaker. Crying and mumbling apologies to her love while he wept silently against her, Nymphadora slipped out of consciousness, and out of the life that had just come together so beautifully.

~rlnt~

Remus hadn't exactly attended few funerals in his lifetime. His entire adult life with the exception of fourteen years in the middle had been lived in wartime, and considering his role in the war and that of those he associated himself with—well, there was a lot of death.

He felt like he was in a haze as he and the others standing by the empty grave raised Nymphadora's casket with the simple charm he had always known. The same man who had been speaking at the wake continued his prayers now.

This was a mistake, Remus thought. His throat was dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. It was a mistake, he should be dead, not Dora. His Dora should be here. He should be in there. She should be holding Teddy. She would be the one hurting then, of course, but she was young: those wounds would heal, and she would eventually find a nice young man who would raise Remus's son with her. No one to replace him, but simply to help everyone be better.

There seemed to be no time at all between lifting the coffin and directing it above the grave. Remus's heart continued to beat in his ears. It wasn't natural, he thought. No function inside of his body should be that loud, that audible . . . that _echoic _. . .

With sudden urgency and a vague sense of feeling grateful that Andromeda was already holding Teddy, Remus bolted forward, his face stark white and set. His wand became untrained and the casket dropped several feet at once.

A scream pierced the air.

Shouting incoherently, Remus had the casket put down on stable ground again and he was at once sure that the pounding in his ears wasn't from his heart. It was from inside the coffin, along with whimpers and soft, confused cries for help.

Remus slammed his fist onto the latch on the coffin and it broke easily under his force. He threw the lid open and his wife was there as she had been, gash across her stomach stitched closed under her pretty dress, pale as ever. There was only one difference to be noted.

Nymphadora Lupin was awake.

**~rlnt~**

**Well, this is the longest one-shot I've ever written, easily. I think. See what I did there? I killed her, then I didn't. If I confused anyone just PM me or ask in a review, I'll explain anything that's foggy. I literally cannot stand to see either one of them dead. It kills me (see what I did there, too?). Before I get carried away with my obnoxious exhaustion, I thank you for taking the time to read as always, and I apologize for my long silence. And I have a thing for breaking the quotes up into dialog. **

**Event: Funeral**

**Place: Room of Requirement**

**Prompts: Mistake, Waiting, Awake**

**Quote: "Kiss it all better, I'm not ready to go, it's not your fault dear, you didn't know."**

**Oh, and let me know if this made you cry, because I myself couldn't stop sobbing while I wrote it. I would like to know if I'm crazy or not. Thank you all!**


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